


Not Good With Words

by prettybirdy979



Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: <i>I'd love to see a scribble with Martin comforting a heartbroken John after Sherlock's fall. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Good With Words

He hadn’t been able to look at Martin. Not once during the ceremony, even though the man had taken the seat beside him and quietly sobbed through it.

"I’m sorry." Martin’s voice, so similar but yet so different broke into his thoughts. John realised that everyone had left but Martin was still sitting beside him.

It wasn’t fair really. That Sherlock would do this to him, to everyone and then force John to sit beside his near identical brother at his bloody funeral and John hated him but he did…

"For what? He was…just my best friend. A fraud." John said, still not looking.

"Sherlock is as much a fraud as I am a natural at flying." Martin quipped. “I knew him all my life, I know that is true."

John finally met Sherlock’s eyes. But they were in another’s face and that hurt. “Then why did he say otherwise?"

Martin looked away. “I don’t know."

John stood up. “Tell me when you do."

He was ten steps away when Martin spoke again. “He loved you, you know." John froze. “I don’t know what or who was on that rooftop with him but I know this. He loved you. He would have said anything _,_ done  _anything_ to keep you safe."

"And if I didn’t want to be safe?" John asked in a quiet voice. Martin stood up and moved to stand beside John. 

"He would have done twice as much. I’m sorry for your loss."

John felt a tear escape and ignored it. “You lost him too."

"I lost a brother, you lost a..a..soulmate. I had decades with him, you barely had a year." Martin was crying again, but his voice was steady.

"It’s not fair." John whispered.

"No." Martin agreed. “It never is."

"How much of that did you write down?" John asked.

"The first half." Martin admitted. “I’m…not good with words."

"Neither was he." John sighed. “I think I loved him too. I wish I had told him."

Martin moved closer, placing his hands on John’s shoulder’s. “He was a nosy bugger. Trust me, he knew."

 


End file.
